


I Am Vengeance

by NephthysMoon



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 18:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephthysMoon/pseuds/NephthysMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little snippet on Carth and Dustil during the time of the attack on Telos. Kind of - depressing and dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> So...Carth showed up on fyeahcontroversialcharacters the day I wrote this. And I went into a bit of a - fanrage - about his 'annoying' backstory. So, I decided to do a little piece about Carth's backstory. It ended up being much darker than I intended.

_Too late_. He knew it. It didn't stop him from pacing, though. He should have known, should have said something, should have done something, should have stopped him, should have – ANYTHING! His mind raced in circles. And now it was too late. The entire squadron was pushing every limit known to man or droid, and it wouldn't be enough. He knew it.

 _Please,_  he thought desperately, _let them make it. If there is any kind of grace in this galaxy, let them survive._  He knew he should chastise himself for the selfishness of his thoughts, that his family alone among all the millions living on the planet should survive, but he couldn't care. He was a soldier third, a father first, and a husband second. He had been since the day his son was born. His wife teased him about it all the time. He sent another helpless whisper through the wilds of hyperspace that she would survive to tease him about it again.

* * *

He was rounded up with the other survivors, a broad-shouldered boy of just fifteen. He knew he looked older than that, so he lied, told them he was eighteen. They just nodded and sent him off with the others. He didn't want to think about what they did with the children. He'd tried to look for his mother, but he couldn't find her – or if he had…he shuddered a bit. Most of the bodies were beyond recognition.

 _You promised you'd protect us_ , he thought, looking up at the imposing man his father had once considered his closest ally.  _You said you'd always be there for me, for Mom. You said you were going to fight them to make sure that we'd never have see war first-hand. You lied, Father._  The recruitment speech was over, but the boy hadn't heard any of it. He didn't need to. His decision was made.

* * *

He found her in one of the medical tents, and even his limited medical experience told him that she was beyond help. No one had seen his son. This was it then. Her eyes opened, and he struggled to plaster a fake smile on his face.

* * *

He was accepted into the Sith Academy on Korriban easily. It hadn't been hard to convince Yuthara that he had the drive to see the training through. She told him she thought he was the most promising hopeful that had come through in years, right before she hit him in the chest with round after round of lightning.

* * *

"Hey, princess, you're awake," he said. His voice sounded too harsh. He was trying not to scream, to rage at the galaxy for taking her from him, for taking his son, his home, his reason for living.

* * *

"Who are you?" she asked, surprising him. It was such a simple question. Why didn't he know the answer?

* * *

"Not for long," she whispered, her voice so faint he had to bend closer to hear her. "Who are you?" she asked, her words pained. He stared at her in shock.

* * *

"Dustil Onasi," he said, taking a deep breath, trying to build up his natural resistance to the lightning.

* * *

"It's me, Morgana," he said, "Carth." She shook her head in denial.

* * *

"Wrong," Yuthara said. "That is your name. The name given to you by your pathetic father. The father that couldn't save you from us! I'll ask you again, who are you?" She shot him with more lightning.

* * *

"No," she whispered, her breathing slowing. "Your face is wrong." He stared at her.

* * *

Dustil stared at her, wondering if the Twi'lek had gone mad with power, like some of the other hopefuls he'd seen around the Academy. Master Uthar came around the corner. He looked over the scene and Dustil hoped for a rescue. "Ah, excellent, he seems to be progressing nicely," he said, before walking off.

* * *

"Who are you?" she asked again, as she went limp in his arms. It was then he noticed the blood coating his jacket, felt his face settle into the hard lines she must have seen with her dying eyes, and he knew the answer.

* * *

"Who are you?" she asked again, and as he went limp from the pain, he thought of the blackened bodies of Telos, of his father's broken promises, of the mother that he never found in the aftermath, and he suddenly knew the answer.

* * *

"I am vengeance."


End file.
